Ambersley (Lords of London) (54 page)

Iris scanned the partygoers in the crowded ballroom, but didn’t see anyone she wanted to make small talk with for three minutes. Political events made her nervous, though she did her best to hide it from David. She intended to be the model wife for him, and she’d do whatever was necessary to further his career. She sipped her Chardonnay, alone.

A tingling at her neck warned her someone had approached from behind. Warm fingers whispered up her bare spine to rest at her nape.

“
One of your pins is loose.” The male voice lured her—rich, dark, and promising the same jolt as a good espresso. “Allow me.”

His fingers slid about her neck, past her ears, sending alarms from every nerve ending. Her entire body shivered with heat, a sensation beyond anything she’d experienced before. A pin slid deeper into her hair, but his touch lingered. She liked how it lingered.

Not a good sign.

Stifling the unwanted anticipation, Iris turned to thank the mystery man and send him about his business. Instead, her lower lip slackened as the party crasher withdrew his hand. At close range, his chin and cheeks were chiseled like the local mountains while his nose bent a little to the left, as if he’d broken it once. Dark hair curled slightly around his ears, and a day’s growth of beard carpeted his jaw. The smell of leather and oil and desert dust clung to him.

“
Personally, I’d rather see your hair down,” he said.

“
It’s an awkward length, tends to look mussed up.” Wait—had she actually responded to such a personal remark?

A slow grin crinkled his blue eyes. “I’ll bet it looks fine mussed up. I bet you do, too.”

What an absurd thing to say—even for a come-on. No good would come from that gleam in his eye, or the way his upper lip curved. “Do we know each other?”

“
No need to get frosty on me,” he said, the smile unchanged. “As a matter of fact, your dad introduced us in passing about a month ago.”

Any curiosity about him ended right there. Her gaze darted toward the door. “Cosmo’s not with you, is he?”

“
No, ah, I saw him earlier tonight.”

David spoke up over her shoulder. “Iris, is everything all right?”

Iris shot the crasher a glance, daring him to make this situation anything less than perfect. She smiled at David. “Everything’s fine.”

“
Friend of yours?” All three tuxedo-clad businessmen had followed David over and, from the tone of his question, the chubby one was hoping for a scene.

“
No—” The single word came from Iris and Cosmo’s friend at the same time.

Surprised, Iris paused. She’d rather not mention her father’s name as it tended to ruin her evenings with David. Maybe it was best if this guy explained his connection to Cosmo.

“
Not a friend. I’m her cousin, Mickey, and you must be David. Oh, I’ve heard all about you.” He offered his hand.

David shook it, though he didn’t smile. Not that Iris blamed him. He’d only ever met her father, but that was enough to put David off her whole family.

“
You’re a Fortune, then?” David asked.

“
No, we’re related on her mom’s side. Kincaid’s the last name.”

To her astonishment, Mickey shook hands all around, as if he were one of the social elite shooting the breeze. Except, dressed in his leather and denim, he looked manlier, wilder, hotter. For God’s sake, the man was a chameleon, a con man who could probably fit in anywhere with anyone.

David’s brow wrinkled in uneasiness. “I thought your mother was Russian.”

“
She was.” She raised her brows at Mickey.

He had the audacity to wink at her. “Yeah, my mom was her sister, but she ran off with an Irishman. I mean, what are you going to do?”

Before anyone could reply, he took her glass of wine and handed it to David. “Hold this, will ya, Dave? I need to talk to Iris about a little family matter. I’ll bring her back in a sec.”

“
What are you doing?” Iris nearly stumbled as he pulled her away from the group.

“
Enjoying a few quiet moments without his kind looking down their noses at us.” In a twinkling, he had her on the edge of the dance floor. “Dance with me.”

The orchestra was playing a Sinatra-style ballad while couples swayed in slow and sensuous rhythms. Iris balked. “Don’t you think that’s a little provocative for cousins?”

“
Interesting choice of words, because you really don’t want to provoke me tonight.” Mickey hauled her against his chest and folded his arms around her. “Let Dave and his buddies make what they want out of this.”

Iris squirmed, but though his grip didn’t hurt, he also wouldn’t loosen it. Continuing to struggle would only create the dreaded scene she always hoped to avoid.

“
Fine. What’s this family matter you wanted to discuss?” She followed his steps, or rather the gentle swaying of his hips.

His grip relaxed. “Your dad stiffed me tonight.”

“
Stiffed you?”

“
Ran off on me. We’ve been negotiating a little business, and he disappeared tonight without delivering.”

Iris closed her eyes.
Cosmo and his crazy schemes.
It was a miracle he stayed out of jail. “What’s he into this time? Counterfeit casino chips? He lift someone’s wallet?”

“
Try ten million in jewels.”

“
Ten mi—” Her eyes flew open, and she choked out a laugh. “He’s not stupid.”

“
No, he’s very clever, isn’t he?” He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “Just like you—successful fiancé, successful business—what are you hiding?”

Ripples of electricity shot through her. She stiffened in his arms, making him back off. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“
No?” He raised a skeptical brow. “Then when you talk to Cosmo, tell him his friend Mickey is waiting. I’ll try to help him.”

Iris considered him. Mickey didn’t look like the kind of guy who waited around for others. “You’ll
help
him?”

“
Yeah.” The eye contact, the easy smile, the relaxed posture while he held her—they all added up to honesty.

She wasn’t deceived. Mickey Kincaid was good, maybe even better than Cosmo, but she sure didn’t trust him.

“
Mind if I cut in?” David stood on the dance floor with two security guards. All the other couples had stopped dancing.

“
Sure,” Mickey replied easily. “I’ve got to run anyway.”

“
That’s probably best,” David said.

Iris looked into Mickey’s eyes. He still held her so close she could feel the heat rise off the planes of his solid chest.

“
Give Uncle Cosmo my message, will ya, Rissie? And call me if you need me.”

It took a moment for her to register that he’d used Cosmo’s pet name for her. “Do I have your latest number?”

Mickey leaned down to her ear again, and this time his moist lips nibbled her earlobe.

Her brain must have shut down, because she didn’t stop him.

“
You won’t need it. I’ll be watching you,” he whispered.

He released her abruptly, pulled off by the security guards. Already, they were escorting him from the ballroom, from the hotel, probably from the Strip.

“
Iris, what was that all about?” Despite any irritation David might feel, he escorted her from the dance floor and handed her a fresh glass of wine.

“
He was looking for Cosmo.” She sipped the chilled wine to cool herself.
Damn. Chardonnay, again.
Determined to salvage the evening, she smiled, back in control.

And then her cell phone chirped from within her tiny handbag.

“
Now what?” Forcing a smile, David took her glass. “I ask for one night with you, and I get a circus.”

She pulled the phone from her bag and silenced the ringer. “Sorry.” Normally she’d put it on vibrate, but there was no way to wear the phone with this clingy dress.

“
If it’s your father, don’t answer it.”

Puzzled by the number on the little screen, she shook her head. “It’s my security company for the shop.” She flipped the phone open and covered her other ear to block out the party noise. “Iris Fortune.”

“
Ms. Fortune, this is Belinda with SecureLink Systems. We need to verify that you entered your premises after hours.”

“
What happened?”

“
Your pass code was entered into the security system to shut off the alarm at eleven-fifteen. The system was reset at eleven-twenty. Was that you?”

Iris blinked. The only other person who knew her pass code was Cosmo. He’d gone into her store tonight, but why? And how did Mickey fit into it all? “Yes, Belinda, that was me.”

“
You know you’re supposed to call the data desk and tell them when you make an after-hours entry.”

“
Yes, I’m sorry. I was in a hurry. I appreciate you following up with me.”

“
Very good, Ms. Fortune. We’re here to serve you.”

“
Thank you.” Great, now she was lying to her security company. Iris closed her phone, grateful David had turned away to watch the orchestra. She thought of calling Cosmo, but no, there was no point in overreacting to some stranger and his version of what Cosmo might be up to. Tomorrow would be soon enough to sort out this whole mess.

No matter how hard she tried, Cosmo always managed to ruin her evenings. Iris let out a breath and touched her hairpins until assured she had it all together.

~

It had been far too long since he’d had a woman.

Mickey noted the security uniforms around the room then shifted his stance to lean against the oversized column out of their lines of sight.

Naturally, he’d responded to the feel of Iris pulled up against him. Watching her now, that clingy white dress encouraged his imagination to take flight.

She was one stellar creature. A real class act.

And totally off-limits for more than the obvious reasons. As Cosmo’s daughter, he’d never be able to fully trust her. With that red-gold hair and those brandy-colored eyes—not to mention those great natural tits—she’d lure a man into making mistakes.

Mistakes could get a guy killed. Look what happened to Brian.

Look, don’t touch
was clearly the way to proceed with Miss Fortune. Then he recalled her scent, musky and exotic with promise, as he’d tasted her ear. Definitely better not to eat, drink or
breathe
around her, either.

He’d have to watch her, no way around that. Who was calling her at this hour if not Cosmo? The tricky bastard must have given her the goods for safekeeping, though she acted cool as can be about it. No, it was too convenient. Cosmo had stashed a load of stolen gems, and his daughter owned an upscale jewelry store.

Had she fenced the stuff for him? Was that Cosmo’s angle? Stiff the bosses and try to sell the stones and make a real killing? He was about to learn all about killing firsthand.

Mickey flagged down a passing waiter and pressed a twenty into the guy’s hand with a few whispered directions. His gaze returned to the stoic David, lost in conversation with more tuxes. The guy was an idiot. Beside him, Iris waited, elegant and regal in her patience. A woman like her wouldn’t wait forever—not patiently, anyway. A woman like her demanded promises, grand gestures, sacrifices.

He shook off the pointless memories as the waiter approached Iris and handed her a glass of red wine. Mickey didn’t know anything about wines, but he could tell she didn’t like that white stuff. He’d asked the waiter for something big, bold and
red.

Her body tensed at this unexpected gift, then her gaze followed the waiter’s hand as he gestured in Mickey’s direction.

Mickey blew her a kiss.

Stupid. But he could very well be dead before dawn, so what more could he lose?